figure my heart out

I'm having one of those days. You know the kind? Where you're not actively sad but you're not actively happy either and you're trying not to think too much so you aimlessly wander around the house, sucking on peach stones and licking the crumbs off a plate of scrambled eggs. I'm actually doing much better today than I thought I would be, considering my circumstances. There's a photo stuck to the wall beside my bed - when life gets harder you must've just levelled up. It's comforting, I guess. Slightly.

It's just: what now? I'm not working again until Monday, which gives me 2.5 days more of this pointlessness. I want to do something but nothing appeals to me right now. So I laze around and try to ignore the heaviness in my chest. Have you ever tried not to thing of something? Don't think of elephants. What are you thinking about? Elephants. It's driving me insane. I know I need to leave it alone, let the metaphorical elephants do their little dance around my head and distract myself. But it's like an itch I can't stop scratching.

I could continue watching Fringe. I could continue watching Seinfeld. I could continue watching the Carrie Diaries. I could reread The Virgin Suicides. I could bake a cake. I could redecorate my living room. I could paint. I could go for a run. So many things I could to cheer myself up right now and I'm not doing any of it. But then again, writing about my feels makes me feel better and I'm doing that, so maybe I'm not as masochistic as I think I am.

I ought to be proud. Six months ago, if I was in this situation, I'd probably be back in a doctor's office, having my medication upped and getting that little pity look I get from my pharmacist a whole lot more. I threw up a few nights ago. I've had a phobia of vomit since I was about five. It fucking terrifies me. And yet I did it. Not that I really had much say in the matter, though - I really was that drunk. But it's still a good experience anyway, you know? I did it and didn't die. Nothing bad happened aside from a lot of embarrassment and a yucky taste in my mouth. I posted on twitter that perhaps getting 'white girl wasted' and puking your guts out onto an innocent pot plant is a rite of passage. I hope so, at least. That was such a terrible night for me. But on the flip side, I realised I have fucking good friends. ♥

I want to get away. By myself. To find myself, as silly as it seems. Doesn't even have to be far. Or even just do something for myself. Join the gym, learn kickboxing, get another tattoo.

Maybe I need to revisit the list.

currently listening to: the 1975
currently watching: seinfeld/fringe/the carrie diaries
currently reading: absofucking nothing. shit.


  1. love you too. and i'm so sorry i totally missed your birthday :( hope it was fabulous <333333333 lots of love xox

  2. The human body can be pretty fucking complicated, especially when it comes to desires of the heart and mind. Stick around, you'll figure it out. :)
    (On a side note, I can't stop thinking either. It keeps me up at night.)

  3. it was alright, didn't really feel like a birthday for some reason! <3

  4. aww, boo. hope the year to come is excellent <3

  5. you're always so wise with words, rachel. thanks :)